


The Order of Succession

by Cartadwarfwithaheartofgold (manka)



Series: Paragon of Their Kind 2020 Exchange [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Brothels, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Dwarven Politics, Dysfunctional Family, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Gen, Noblehunters, Orzammar Culture and Customs, Partial Nudity, Pre-Relationship, Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:22:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27581984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manka/pseuds/Cartadwarfwithaheartofgold
Summary: Bhelen Aeducan ponders the path to the throne and the siblings that stand in his way.
Relationships: Bhelen Aeducan & Female Aeducan, Bhelen Aeducan & Trian Aeducan, Bhelen Aeducan/Rica Brosca, Female Aeducan & Trian Aeducan
Series: Paragon of Their Kind 2020 Exchange [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2036824
Comments: 11
Kudos: 10
Collections: 2020 A Paragon of Their Kind Dragon Age Dwarf Exchange





	The Order of Succession

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shellepink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shellepink/gifts).



> Enjoy this episode of Keeping Up with the Aeducans for Dwarf Exchange!

Bhelen was bored. 

It wasn’t an unusual feeling. The woman on his lap was pretty, all the noblehunters always were, but Bhelen needed more than pretty to hold his attention. His hands roamed her plush curves on instinct rather than with lustful reverence, his thoughts wondering. 

When he was bored, he tended to focus on the most melancholy of his thoughts. His eyes latched onto the flaking gilt of this, the best whorehouse in the Diamond Quarter. It was a fitting metaphor for the whole sodding business. 

Orzammar was an empire in decline, but all of them had their eyes closed to the impending doom while they danced and ate and ignored the Darkspawn at their doors as if it didn’t threaten their lives. Bhelen suspected the nobility would throw the same blighted parties, exchange the same tired gossip, and complain of the same petty problems even as they perished. 

He wasn’t the only one weighing these things, but _he_ was the only one who wanted to _do_ something about it, and yet he found himself completely frozen out. 

Instead, it was in Trian’s hands. And Trian was an _asshole_.

But even if Trian wasn’t in the way, it would come down to Ren and she…

His sister’s bright, boisterous laughter drifted from a room next door and Bhelen smirked in spite of himself. 

He adored Ren, and he wasn’t alone. The glorious, perfect daughter of the Aeducan’s could do no wrong. She was charming against Trian’s stodginess, fun against Bhelen’s seriousness. She was the darling of Orzammar, but Bhelen knew she possessed a cunning mind beneath all that cleverness. He caught sight of it, sometimes, but most of the time…

Well. Ren liked her women pretty, her men at her service, and the party to be _continuous_. It made Bhelen feel like he was the middle child sometimes, caught between the spoilt sole Princess and the heir to the throne. 

_Invisible_. 

“We can move somewhere a bit more private, if you’d like, my lord,” the woman on his lap batted artificially darkened lashes at him. 

Bhelen considered. She was lovely, he’d give her that, although not stunning. And he supposed the worst that could happen was a child of the wrong gender, which he would simply- 

The door to the mansion swung inward, startling the assembled noblehunters in a flurry of brightly colored silk. They all wisely took one step back, dropping into pretty curtsies while the scowling figure strode into the room. 

Bhelen patted the ass of the woman on his lap, gesturing her off so he could stand properly. The moment he did, Trian’s eyes fixed on him. Bhelen was not particularly surprised to see his older brother just about frothing at the mouth, but he wasn’t particularly happy about it either. 

“Where is she?” Trian demanded. 

Bhelen gestured helplessly to the assembled, gawking women. “A lot of ‘shes’ here, Trian.” 

Unfortunately, that was the moment his wayward sister cried out in delight from the other room. Bhelen swore under his breath while Trian’s gaze swung to the door on the opposite side of the room. 

Women scattered from his path while he stormed across the room, staring after him. Bhelen didn’t see the point of trying to grab him and drag him back out into the street. It was, unfortunately, going to be a scene no matter what he did. May as well let the only witnesses be a gaggle of lower-caste and no-caste noblehunters.

One of them, a redhead he hadn’t noticed before, didn’t scurry out of the path or even stand from her chair. She was twining a crimson lock around her finger, watching the show with an amused twist of her lips that mirrored his own. 

He noted her gleaming green eyes, the brand on her cheek, that stunning fiery mane, and filed them all away for later. 

Trian grabbed the door handle and wrenched it open. Bhelen snuck a quick look over his older brother’s shoulder and sent a quick prayer of thanks to his Ancestors. 

Ren was sandwiched between two stunning, mostly nude women. His sister, of course, appeared to be completely naked as the day she’d been born. Fortunately, due to the placement of limbs Bhelen was spared the traumatizing experience of seeing her tits. 

Not that anyone would know Ren was naked from the searing, imperious look she sent over the bare shoulder of another blonde. She lifted one eyebrow. “Can I help either of you?” 

“Get dressed,” Trian demanded.

Ren’s lips lifted into her own amused grin. “Or you can get fucked. You’re in the right place, you know. May loosen you up.” 

The brunette behind Ren giggled and hid her face in Ren’s loose, golden hair. 

“I’m not asking twice.” 

Ren rolled her eyes up to the ceiling and sighed. “Tri, I’m not sure you asked _once_. What the sodding hell is your problem?” 

“Your consistent attempts to upstage me! What do you think it will gain you? You’re still only a second child, a _spare_.” 

Ah. The order of succession. There was Trian, the heir, and Farren, the spare. Bhelen was beneath notice. Far removed from the throne with two healthy adult heartbeats ahead of his. 

Even if they were both idiots in _spectacularly_ different ways. 

“Trian, I’ve been here for _hours_.” Farren tossed her hair over her shoulder and glared him down. “Ask Bhelen.” 

He sighed. “She dragged me here this morning. Gorim actually got so bored he-” 

Trian stepped into the room threateningly, the pure hatred and jealousy in his face so evident it sent shivers down Bhelen’s spine. “Got so bored he went to the Assembly to listen to the debates, where they voted to make _you_ the second-in-command of our forces with the goal of handing it all to you in a-”

Ren’s jaw dropped, but the joy in her voice was unmistakable. “Daddy is giving me the army?” 

Their father would give her _anything_ , Trian and Bhelen both knew it. The fact that she’d be an amazing commander was merely salt in the wound for Trian. 

“You’ll turn it down.” Trian tried to order her, but even Bhelen had to snort. Farren was already grabbing a shirt, throwing it over her head. It was long enough to drop to her thighs, which was a blighted good thing, because she didn’t bother to find her pants. 

Instead, she was laughing, a boisterous and wild sound that was contagious. She shoved past Trian and Bhelen, leaving nothing but the scent of her perfume wafting in the air. Bhelen shot a look at Trian, but the man was already following Ren with the darkest scowl Bhelen had ever seen.

With sudden, biting clarity, Bhelen knew Trian would murder their sister, would do it in a _heartbeat_. And Ren, sweet, proud, spoiled Ren would never see it coming. 

Two heartbeats in front of his. Or one. 

_Or none_.

Except, unfortunately, one of those heartbeats was _Ren’s_. 

Which was why Bhelen followed close on Trian’s heels, stopping just outside the mansion door to watch the scantily clad favored princess throw herself into her sputtering second’s arms. 

“My lady where are your _pants_?” Gorim tried to hold Ren at arm’s length, but she was too thrilled. 

“Is it true? Am I going to be the Commander?” she asked breathlessly. Gorim’s mouth split into a wide grin and Ren shrieked in undignified delight, wrapping her arms around him. 

“Whore,” Trian sniffed. “We’d be better without her sullying our name.” 

“Can’t do worse than you have,” Bhelen muttered. Trian glared in return, stomping away as fast as he’d come. 

That left Bhelen alone, watching his favorite sibling celebrate her victory. 

“I’ve gotta say, they’re a pair aren’t they?” a sultry voice whispered from behind him. 

Bhelen turned to come face to face with the most vibrant set of clever, green eyes he’d ever seen. The woman was smiling, brand crinkling on her cheek, cheap dress worn better than any silk any noble could buy. 

“Only one person exhibiting… royal behavior here.” The noblehunter swept her gaze, amused, over his sister’s scantily clad figure. “The other two are all just tantrums and show, aren’t they?” 

He had to ask. He _had_ to know. “And who are you?” 

She didn’t bother to bow, but then again, he almost felt like _he_ was the one who should bow to _her._

“Rica,” she answered with another sly grin. “Rica Brosca.” 

**Author's Note:**

> From Pornzammar with Love, [@cartadwarfwithaheartofgold](https://cartadwarfwithaheartofgold.tumblr.com/)


End file.
